Going The Mile
by redburry42
Summary: Shipwrecked on a nearly inhospitable planet, Peter and the gang rely on each other and their shared expertise to survive and escape one of the worst space rocks in the galaxy.
1. Chapter 1

Peter glanced around the small, dimly lit cave. He was safe, for now. Maybe. Nothing could be certain. His crew was scattered. He managed to keep Groot with him, but that was easy as the little sapling fit neatly into his satchel. The others though, they were going to be tougher to find. He had no clue where the others might be.

In the explosion that separated them, shit had really hit the fan. Everything went everywhere, and they lost sight of each other. Someone had lied to them about this world, some guy on some trade station that had told them about the planet. He forgot to mention that the planet was geologically unstable and unable to hold or support the weight of a g-class spaceship. The land simply gave out underneath them. Anyone who managed to get out was lucky, but Peter didn't want to contemplate the odds of weather all of his friends had made it or not.

The planet was more than just unstable. The shifted poles caused unpredictable, insane climate conditions as well as volcanoes, meteorites and extremes of all kinds. This place really was a hell hole of biblical proportions.

Peter silently vowed to hunt down who ever told him to go here in the first place the second he got off the god forsaken planet. He couldn't get too bitter though, as a sudden rumbling about in his nap sack distracted him. He pulled out the sapling Groot, eyeing him carefully. He seemed to be ok, tiny leaves spread out to absorb every bit of light in the little cave.

Peter smiled slightly. So far, two out of five had made it. All he had to do now was find the other three and get the hell off this planet. Sure, the odds weren't great, but those odds were based on the performance of a normal individual. Drax was too strong to not have pulled himself out of the wreckage before the rock swallowed it up, Rocket too fast, Gamora too agile. All that he needed to do was reunite them and the rest would fall into place.

Quill raised himself up, checking through the mouth of cavern. The sky was a dark hue of backlit orange and swirling grey clouds. Best case scenario it was going to rain, worst case scenario, it was going to rain acid. Peter wasn't an expert on planetary weather patterns, but he was much more familiar with being cast away or shipwrecked than the average interplanetary bear.

In the past, Yondu had abandoned him on not one, but seven uninhabited planets to test his abilities as a Ravager. Sure, he didn't do it to anyone else, but Peter didn't resent his pseudo father in the slightest. It made him stronger, it won him respect. It had nearly become a competition. Mind you, competitive survival was by no means a fair game to anyone, but it made for one hell of a sport. He and another would be placed on a planet, who ever was still alive to be picked up a fortnight later was the winner. None of them had ever actually died, but it helped add to the drama of it.

Despite having experience in this department, Peter Quill had never seen a planet this bad. It was going to be one hell of a challenge to say the least. Other planets had been forested, frozen, or even a complete wasteland, but never this horrifically. Carnivorous predators, stagnant waters, the ground and even the goddamned sky were all trying to kill you. Peter squinted, eyeing the sky suspiciously for what it might have in store for him.

He was promised gold, treasure and credits of all kinds when he was first 'informed' about planet hell. The man leaned against the bar, spinning yarns about a lost planet practically bleeding treasure. He should have known it was just some asshole trying to get laid, but hey, Peter was a space buccaneer and space buccaneers do not simply pass up even a hint of spoils to be had.

The storm outside began, telling in that moment whether survival or death were to be had. Peter whipped his jacket out into the rain, and pulled it back in almost immediately. The lack of holes being burnt into the leather was a great sign. After a few of Peter's quick tests, the liquid revealed itself to be nothing more than the gift of life that is water. Thank the fucking lord, this was a planet with water. Peter caught more of the water in his jacket, pouring it into Groot's tiny pot.

The outlook would have looked bleak to some, but to Peter it was just another adventure. One more story to tell and one more memory to look back on. Everyone would be fine because that's how things work in Peter's head. He tugged the jacket from the water, draping it over a rock. Fire would have to be made, but that wasn't much of an issue really, after all, Peter was experienced. The others, not so much, but they would be fine.


	2. Chapter 2

Rocket stood paralyzed with a shock as the severity of the situation settled in. It was crazy as all hell. Him, here stuck on this planet without a ship. Groot was gone, so were Peter and Gomorrah.

He would have worried, but the form of Drax laying near him was taking up the majority of his attention. The rise and fall of Drax's broad chest was a good sign. The large, tattooed body had suffered a lot less damage than Rocket would have thought possible for someone that big.

In their escape from the collapsing ship, Drax had managed to tear open a seam in the wall of the ship with his bare hands, throwing himself and Rocket out of it. Rocket escaped with just a few cuts and bruises, but Drax was knocked out on impact with the ground. His rotund frame was useful in battle, but not so much in lessening damage from a fall, or in this case launch from a sinking spaceship.

Rocket paced the burnt ground, shaking his head furiously as his mind battled the situation.

_This isn't happening._ He thought to himself. _Stuff like this just doesn't happen. Planets just don't up and swallow spacecrafts. _

The internal monologue wasn't helping much as he continued to wear a small path in the scorched grass beneath him. He was here, Drax was laying unconscious, Peter, Gamora and Groot nowhere to be seen and he didn't want to think about any of it. Groot had to be fine, he just had to be.

Rocket started kicking the grass, mercilessly beating it into submission, his fear turned into an overwhelming anger. Rocket turned his attentions to Drax, kicking as hard as he could into the sleeping giant's shoulder.

"Get. The. Hell. Up. You useless piece of-" Drax sat suddenly, the force of which knocking Rocket off of his feet. Drax rubbed an eye lazily as he looked around, not recognising anything.

"Rocket, where is it that we have landed?" He asked paying little attention to his crewmates surprise. Rocket stared at him in disbelief as Drax ignored him, instead focusing on the ringing in his eardrums. Rocket gawked a moment longer.

"You don't remember anything?" He demanded, suddenly quite angry agian.

"I was unaware that there was anything for me to have forgotten." Drax admitted just a bit sheepishly. Rocket could not wrap his head around someone so strong being so damn delicate to insensitivity.

"We crash landed, you threw us out of a hole you made in the ship." Rocket shouted, not sure why he was angry. Drax furrowed his brow deep in thought, Rocket groaned loudly. "Really? None of that's ringing a bell?" He demanded again, just as harsh as the last time. Drax glared at him, warning Rocket to lay off a bit.

"I'm afraid it does not." Drax mumbled after a long pause. He stared off pensively, ignoring Rocket again. Though being marooned was a new experience to both of them, Drax was well used to facing adversity. He did not become known as Drax the Destroyer by wilting in the face of a challenge. Even if the challenge was survival and his opponent was a whole fucking planet.

Rocket was not as optimistic. He hated the outdoors, he hated being wet, he hated being hot, he hated anything to do with anything even remotely related to being outside. He was out of his element, and not at all happy about it. He had already endured some rain, he had already endured some injuries. This was not his idea of fun, and the fact that Drax was seemingly bothered by any of it was driving him mad to no end.

Drax got to his feet, getting up to walk in a random direction. Rocket stopped his fuming just long enough to take notice.

"Where the hell are you going, ya' jackass? There's nowhere to go!" He called after Drax, who ignored him. Rocket got up to chase after him, having to jog to keep up with the other's long strides. A few moments passed. "Seriously. What the hell?" He asked, panting now from the long period of movement. Drax sighed.

"If there is nothing here, there is no hope of survival." He said, as though it was painfully obvious. "If there's nothing here, then there may be something elsewhere. If there is nothing elsewhere then we will die. If there is, then we have saved our own lived." He explained. Drax looked down, eyeing his already tired out companion. "You are frail." He said, as more of an observation than anything.

"Thanks a lot, asstown." Rocket retorted, struggling to keep up. Drax sighed, pulling him up suddenly over and onto his shoulder. Rocket was a bit taken aback, but thankful.

"Uh, thanks." He said awkwardly. Drax merely grunted in recognition, but said nothing more for a long time.

The two of them travelled for what felt like an eternity. Rocket mentally noted that riding a being of flesh and blood was much smoother than riding on Groot. Groots movements were rigid and hard and surprisingly mechanical for a being born straight out of nature. Creatures like Drax were much more smooth and fluid, Rocket compared the two to rafting down a river vs sledding down a landslide. He continued on, lost in thought until suddenly Drax came to a halt.

"Look." He said, pointing upwards to the orange sky. A trail of thick grey smoke was trailing it's way upwards, occasionally breaking into short puffs before continuing on again. Rocket's mood was instantly lifted.

"Do you think…" He began to ask, but paused, taking in the sight.

"Of course I do. I am not an imbecile." Drax said sharply. "If you do not think my point to be valid you may wait here while I-" Rocket cut drax off, sighing dramatically.

"I meant to say, do you think that could be one of the others." He said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh." was all Drax had to say.


	3. Chapter 3

"You see, Groot." Peter said absentmindedly as blocked the fire with his jacket. "Us humans are tough." He added as he pulled the red jacket back again. "We can adapt to almost anything. You see this?" He asked, gesturing to the smoke stacks he was creating in the air. "Once one of the others see this, they'll know just where to find us." He continued tending to the fire, adding fuel and fanning the flames when needed.

Peter continued rambling about humans and the attributes of earth as he worked. Peter was really proud of his race, and with good reason. Humans were nearly infamous throughout the known universe for being, well, something you don't want to run into.

Radiation from the earths sun was toxic to nearly all other life forms. Due to terran life having to evolve to adapt to the sun's radiation, it had become terribly resistant, resilient, and impervious to even the harshest of conditions. Terran plants were outlawed due to too many planets simply becoming over run when they grew out of control and eventually choked out any other life on planet. Given water and light, they could turn even the most urban of planets to full Forest of Endor in a weeks time. The great cockroach invasion of Rjinhord would not be so easily forgotten.

The Terran world was so heavily avoided, that the only reason Peter was picked up by the Ravagers was that no one else was willing to go there. Human's were seriously a scary race. They were adaptable, they were strong and they were not to be tampered with. Nearly the whole universe was content to just stay the hell away from planet earth.

"Yeah Groot," Peter continued as he had been for at least an hour. "Humans are strong. We can bend our own planet to be the way we wanted it to be. When we needed a gap between continents to fit through, we just went up and made one." He sat by the warm fire next to his silent little companion, occasionally breaking the flow of the smoke it released. "You tree guys are strong too." He added, rambling on. "You guys survived and practically conquered us. We can't breath a breath without you guys."

There was a break in the scrubby bushes that surrounded Peter's little Camp. Rocket jumped off of Drax's shoulder, landing on all fours.

"Groot, buddy!" He shouted, not bothering to hide his excitement and relief with snark or sarcasm. Peter smiled to himself as Drax came to stand by his fire.

"It was wise of you to set this up." He said smiling. "I don't know if we would have found you without it." He conceded, sitting by Peter's fire. Peter cracked a wide grin. Things were going well, he expected as much, but it was still nice.

"So," Peter began, rustling through his bag for provisions. "Where do you guys think Gamora might be?"


	4. Chapter 4

Gamora faded into consciousness, something warm and calming dragging her up out of the dark. Despite the feeling of calmness and warmth, her instincts were kicked into gear. The last thing she could remember was cataclysmicly colliding with the ground after launching herself from an exploding ship. She was comfortable here, but she knew that she should not be comfortable at all. She should be in pain, after all, something somewhere had to be broken after a crash like that.

She laid still and silent, her eyes were closed, though she could tell there was light around her. She dared not move, not until necessary. Sheer curiosity was not a good enough reason to give away her concealed consciousness. Gamora laid there longer than she would have thought possible before finally she heard a stirring.

Foot steps, probably a man's guessing by the presumed weight and cadence, could be heard coming closer. They grew in her direction, but they stopped briefly before their owner sighed in a defeated tone. Gamora didn't know what to make of any of this. The feet walked again in another direction, and she chanced a look around, quickly surveying the room through slitted eyes.

She was laying on a cot of sorts, a scratchy blanket pulled up to her shoulders. The walls were made up of a rough stone that curved up into the ceiling, meaning that this was most likely a cave. The furnishings were made from wood, and appeared to be hand carved by what was probably a less than talented carpenter. A rug made from the skin of a large animal lay on the floor.

"Hey, she's awake." A male voice said. Gamora's eyes snapped in the direction of a man sitting in a worn wooden rocking chair. His face looked pleasant or at least nonthreatening, but she wasn't about to fall for anything. He got up instantly as their line of sight connected.

"Are you alright?" He asked, sounding genuinely worried. She pushed herself to sit up, it took more effort than she had thought it would have. Probably nothing proper water and nourishment couldn't fix though. She eyed the two of them warily.

The two men stood facing her now, with a look of awe and caution. They were legitimately surprised that she ever woke up. It had been nearly a week since Matthew, the younger of the pair had pulled her in from a near crater in the ground. Jonathan, the older looked at Gamora tentatively, studying her features carefully.

"Do you drink water?" Jonathan asked in a slow careful voice. Gamora had no choice but to nod. She had no idea how long she had been out for, but she knew that in her current state, turning down a drink of water from nearly any source would be regrettable. He rushed off into another room, and was gone for a moment.

"How do you feel?" The one left there asked, curiously peeking at her. She stared blankly at him for a moment, deciding whether or not to answer.

"I am fine." She said starkly. He was slightly taken aback by the harshness of her tone, but said nothing in response. The other returned, a clay cup of water in hand. He placed it next to her. Gamora took it up greedily.

"You're probably wondering what you're doing here, who we are, and exactly where _here_ is." He said knowingly. Gamora nodded.

"My name is Jonathan. This is my son, Matthew." He said, gesturing at the both of them. "This is our home. Matthew found you and brought in out of the elements." He added.

Gamora's mind quickly snapped to Peter and the rest of her crew. Where they might be, their welfare. She stood up from the cot quickly, the water already healing her.

"I am sorry." She said, with a genuine sense of apology. "I must thank you for the rescue. But I have to leave. I have others to look for."

The light left Matthew's eyes for the moment.

"I didn't find nobody else." He said a little sadly.


End file.
